


ours until the fall

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: author's favorites [42]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Bisexual Character, Character Study, Child Abuse, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Lesbian Character, M/M, Multi, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: Maybe survival has nothing to do with the world around you, but what you make of it. Maybe it’s not coming back from the dead, not continuing to live despite the odds, but making your blood your own.Maybe it's something brave. Maybe it is just something necessary, something that isn’t a choice.Maybe it’s glowing eyes and ripped jeans, dead falcons and glowing swords, dripping fangs and broken glasses. Maybe it’s whips flashing and short skirts, red hair and runes drawn from nowhere. Maybe it’s a once-worn white tuxedo and well-aimed arrows, cat eyes and burning memories.Maybe it’s blood.Maybe it’s fire.





	ours until the fall

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "New Americana" by Halsey, which I pretty much wrote this fic to.

Izzy, Alec, and Jace Lightwood are siblings through and through. They have burned themselves together. They will always support each other, no matter what.

 

She refuses to hate herself. Her brothers don't know how not to.

Izzy has enough love, enough faith, for the three of them. She pulls them into hugs whenever she can. She understands that her brothers have been beaten down just as she has, though in different ways.

 

Alec listens to their parents when they spit poison in his face. His siblings turn their faces, lash out rather than make themselves _perfect._

He stands by them. He sacrifices his everything for their happiness, never complains when he gives up his love for theirs.

 

Jace is the only one who doesn’t belong to this family. His siblings are the Lightwood Heirs, while he is nothing but a scrap blown in by the wind.

Despite this, the Lightwood parents set him above their own children. In turn, he acts out. Alec and Izzy deserve Maryse and Robert's love far more than Jace does.

\---

Maybe she falls in love. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe they live, and love, and cry. Maybe they die young, maybe they live old.

Maybe the world loves them. Maybe it doesn't.

(It probably won't.)

\---

On the worst nights, when his boyfriend breaks up with him for the sake of the world, when she is trembling from withdrawal, when he accidentally kills an entire world, they hold each others’ hands.

 _The blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb._ The oaths they have made each other mean far more than the blood they may share.

\---

They _do_ have happy moments.

When Izzy hangs out with Clary, when they go to the Pandemonium and dance, when they spar and trade fashion tips, the girl with the whip smiles. The lipstick painted across her lips matches Clary’s after an impromptu makeover and makeout, and taking down demons together is just as fun as a trip to an art gallery, them dressed to the nines.

When Jace gets to hang out with Simon and Maia, when he trades barbs with Maia and flirts heavily with Simon, the broken boy forgets that damned falcon.

He ends up watching cult classics- whatever they are- with them in a massive movie marathon that ends with them kissing each other. He can taste the popcorn and soda on their lips, and he never wants to forget the flavor.

When Alec gets to kiss Magnus in their bed, when he gets to throw parties with him or go on dates to Cairo and Tokyo, the archer feels free for the first time in his life.

Alec has someone respect his body and boundaries. They play pool and sip margaritas and hold hands in dark bars. Alec falls in love with Magnus as easily as he pulls back the string of his bow.

Not every moment the Lightwoods spends with those they love is dramatic. Sometimes it is just a kiss pressed against skin in the early morning, sometimes it is just a movie marathon or a dance in the kitchen or a small charm traded between calloused hands.

\---

Their runes are not just symbols- they are scars, burned into their skin. They share pain with their partners, know what it’s like to throw yourself in front of a bullet aimed in front of someone else. They understand loyalty to the ones you love, no matter how much they hurt you.

They understand that not all trauma is caused by physical injury, that the words of someone you care about can do as much damage.

\---

Maybe they kiss their lovers on rooftops. Maybe their hearts break as elevators descend. Maybe they turn survival into living, turn existence into meaning.

Maybe their bruises and scars turn from badges of honor into scars of a past they have cast aside.

(They don’t forget. They don’t have to. They pull righteous anger against the world they were raised in, feel the urge to burn down a house that was never home. This is not wrong; this is natural. _They_ are natural. There is nothing wrong with the way they were born, merely with the way they were made.)

Let’s hope that the Lightwoods become more than they were told they could be.

\---

Simon drinks Jace’s blood at the end of the world. Maia saves Jace’s ass from an angry pack. Simon calms Maia down after a panic attack.

Izzy teaches Clary how Shadowhunters work. Clary promises to defend Izzy’s world.

Magnus saves Alec from killing himself. Alec reminds Magnus of what it’s like to love again.

 

Maybe survival has nothing to do with the world around you, but what you make of it. Maybe it’s not coming back from the dead, not continuing to live despite the odds, but making your blood your own.

Maybe it's something brave. Maybe it is just something necessary, something that isn’t a choice.

Maybe it’s glowing eyes and ripped jeans, dead falcons and glowing swords, dripping fangs and broken glasses. Maybe it’s whips flashing and short skirts, red hair and runes drawn from nowhere. Maybe it’s a once-worn white tuxedo and well-aimed arrows, cat eyes and burning memories.

Maybe it’s blood.

Maybe it’s fire.

 

Jace and Izzy fight against a world that will never understand them. Maia pulls on leather jackets and printed t-shirts, memorizes lines and lines of code, both magical and computer. Alec folds in on himself, turns himself into a soldier. Simon floods the world with his words, his music. Clary pours herself into her art, paints her heart up the sides of buildings. Magnus takes in every lonely heart, trying to give everyone the home he could never have.

They all try to cope, to shape themselves a place in this world.

 

Magnus’ flat is attracting all kinds of outcasts. The New York Pack’s forgotten beta wolf. The newest fledgling in the New York Clan. The broken son and bright daughter of Valentine himself. Two fallen Shadowhunters.

This is the face of the newest generation of Shadowhunters and Downworlders: broken, bloody, and beautiful.

Magnus can’t help but hope with every kiss, every broken barrier, each _I love you, Magnus._

_\---_

Maybe they learn they don’t have to be anything but themselves. Maybe they fail at everything they attempt, have to learn to stand up from bloodied arms and battered knees. Maybe they race on broken bones, run away from worlds that will not accept them.

Maybe they fight for a world that will never accept them. Maybe they recognize that just because you don’t agree with someone doesn’t mean you should let them go.

Maybe they _do_ let go, let anger override forgiveness. Maybe they turn their backs on the worlds that built them, turn toward each other instead. Maybe they throw away ‘perfection,’ turn to tears and scars and love.

\---

There is a battlefield and they find themselves on opposite sides. Maia, Simon, and Magnus are Downworlders. Jace, Izzy, Clary, and Alec are not. There is a shining sword that threatens to kill every Downworlder, and it’s _all Jace’s fault._

Every drop of blood spilled is on his hands. Dozens of dead Downworlders, guaranteed hundreds more. All because he was a fool.

 

And yet-

_And yet._

 

Daylight doesn’t sear anymore. Simon is a creature unlike no other. They _all_ are- the bisexual warlock, the fallen Shadowhunters, the Daylighter, the werewolf dating a vamp and a Shadowhunter.

\---

Maybe they become more. Maybe they learn to trust in a world that has betrayed them.

\---

They sing out at _Rock Solid Panda_ concerts, dance in starlit streets. They cook spaghetti (badly), paint each others’ nails, make out in back rooms.

They wake up in beds with their lovers, sheets tangled between them. They fuck up and make up, arguing and apologizing loudly over the small things that don't really matter. They purse their lips, set their jaws, over the things that really do matter.

Maia’s bones crack. Simon's fangs extend. The Lightwoods’ skin burns. Clary’s fingers callous. Magnus's mind splits.

They are children borne of aggression and fear, of war entering their homes and never leaving. They are angel-cursed, demon-blessed. Scarred by heavenly fire and softened by the touch of calloused hands, they are broken puzzles pieced together by inexperienced hands.

None of them asked for this life, but they have learned to live with it. When they kiss their lovers, take back partners after arguments, they are taking back a life that is finally theirs.

\---

Maybe they live. Maybe they don't.

And what of it?


End file.
